Overlooking the horizon of golden-brown wheat, it could have been three decades ago and nothing would be different in James’s life. Frankly, he didn’t care much about news of advancing technology, civil rights movements, or when his old man rambled about Ronald Reagan making life harder for farmers. Riding the rusty family tractor to the nearest silo was enough to fully preoccupy his mind. Hell, his family still didn’t have a color television. The world beyond this small Iowa farm was nothing but a tall tale to him. Taking notes of how far the spring crop had progressed, he rattled down the field in the large machine. However, his thoughts were distracted as he turned the corner and reached the edge of their property. Turning his head, he spotted the neighbor’s fields. A dazzlingly colorful contrast to his own property, it was an endless array of flowers. Small pink clovers, dark purple alfalfa, sunflowers beginning to climb high and countless little flowers in an array that reminded him of a vivid sunset. The loud clatter of the farm equipment he rode softened to silence as he turned off the engine, savoring the sight for a moment. It was a shame what his dad said, in his eyes anyone who could cultivate such a pretty crop couldn’t be that bad. However, deep down he thought it was just the way his farther must’ve been raised. It wasn’t a secret he thought those “anthro-folk was up to no good,” but James felt he knew better. At the schoolhouse he got to rub elbows with a tomcat, a sheepdog, and even a potato beetle fella. They weren’t all that different from his experience, just a little odd to look at. Yet the old man insisted those bumblebees were a strange folk, maybe even a cult, and he’d be best ignoring them altogether. With a sigh he ripped his sights off the flower fields and started the engine wheezing back to life. He still had work to do. . . . Following the winds that dared to cross people’s properties without care for borders, up and over the sea of flowers that dwarfed James’s farm, the bumblebee hive stood low and sprawling across the land. The hive itself was a self-sustaining colony, a collection of simple wooden frameworks held together in alienish walls of yellow/brown bubbles of wax. Of course, none of the residents felt this was strange, after all they had lived this way all their lives and generations before them. They may have been quite a distance from their nearest fellow colony, but they kept to tradition just as well as any other. Emma was no different than the rest of her sisters on the surface. A woman whose yellow-black fluff poked out from underneath her simple handmade dress. The curves of her body were strong, even through the hair and loose garments. Her dark black head popped out from the yellow tufts raising out of her collar, covered in a much thinner coating of hair save for two fluffy antennas that hung low with a hint of melancholy. It was just another day for her to serve the hive out in the fields. She was born to tend to the colony and the Queen, just like all her siblings. Stooped over collecting more flowers in her handmade basket, produced by one of her sisters like everything they used, Emma let her mind wander. Not to the honey she’d be helping to make later tonight, but to the world outside. Outside Iowa? No, just their swathe of land. Mama, preferring the title “Queen” or “Her Majesty” forbid contact with anyone who wasn’t yellow and black like them. But, after enough years of just listening to mother she was starting to wonder if she really was the only source of knowledge out there. Of course she was a busy woman, Emma learned most of what she knew from older sisters, but it was all passed down from the word of the Queen. Deftly snapping another flower head into the basket, she spoke up in a bit of hush despite the fact they were the only two as far as her large eyes could see. They were raised that the Queen was always listening, even when it didn’t quite make sense. “Hey, Evelyn... you ever wonder what the outsiders do without a Queen?” A couple years her senior, Evelyn scoffed, “Now, what’s got you talking like that? It doesn’t matter what those people get up to when we’ve got everything we need right here.” Emma could only sigh. “Yeah, I know, the colony provides... but... it doesn’t provide...” She whispered the last part, hardly louder than the soft wind breezing through. “...guys.” Emma’s companion pretended not to hear her for a moment, before putting her basket down and gripping her shoulder. “Emma! You better not be thinking what I think you’re thinking!” The outraged woman’s identical dress shook slightly as her wings folded underneath buzzed in an effort to calm herself. “Look, I know you’re one of the younger ones, but even by now you ought to know the ONLY man who can come here is papa.” She looked Emma dead in the eyes for a moment, “If you think for one second you could bring a man here and do a better job leading the family than-” Emma raised her voice to snap her sister out of the fully expected tirade. “I’m not saying I want to challenge mo-, the Queen, but wouldn’t you like to have someone to sleep with at night?” Evelyn shook her head in disbelief. “You have US, your family to sleep with!” Emma sounded more desperate as she tried to get her point across. “No, I’m talking about something more... ‘intimate’...” Watching Emma’s face blush deeply, Evelyn’s soon followed suit. “Hey, n-now I know sometimes we all get uh, ‘urges,’ but you know it ain’t our duty to have kids.” Evelyn needed only a moment to think before hazarding a guess. “You’ve been reading again, haven’t you.” Reading was a rare skill in the colony, maybe a tenth knew how. If the Queen had her way none would, but as it turns out you can’t completely ignore outside influences and laws even in the far fields of Iowa, so she begrudgingly taught a few daughters. Emma, being one of them. Sheepishly she lowered her gaze. “Well... I found a book... and it talks about how guys act like ‘gentleman’ and how it’s a whole kind of special relationship in itself, something that you could never get betw-” Emma was interrupted as her fellow field hand shushed her quickly. “For your own good, I don’t think you should be reading that stuff.” Emma peeled her sister’s chitinous finger back to give her own rebuttal. “...I really shouldn’t say this... but it was papa who gave me the thing to read in the first place.” Evelyn stopped for a moment in thought. She knew dad was the softie of the parents, the Queen always called him “too nice for his own good,” and it wasn’t the first she heard about him doing little favors for the girls behind her back. “Did you go asking him for more to read again?” Emma let her antennas fall guiltily. “...Yes. But! He says it’s fine as long as I don’t tell mom, uh, the Queen!” Evelyn glared at her for a long moment, deciding exactly how to process this information. In a low but firm voice she made her verdict. “Now... you know I SHOULD be telling the Queen about all this... However, I might keep this under my wing on one condition.” Emma bounced slightly, happy to hear her social slipup might not get her into any trouble. “What?” Her response was whispered, “...you gotta read to me one of these nights...” Evelyn’s blush doubled as she paused for a moment. “...especially the stuff about ‘gentleman’.” . . . Later than night underneath the full moon, James stirred. He couldn’t sleep. The bed felt too warm and the air leaking through the window felt alive with the songs of countless insects. Nearly jumping out of bed in a cold sweat, he tried to clear his head. In a raspy voice he spoke low to himself, “A walk... I’ll go for a walk...” Clad in only the light fabric of his pajamas, he rose to his feet, making sure to move quietly enough not to wake his parents. Slipping silently with his bare feet across the wooden floor, he opened the door, and disappeared into the unusually warm night air. Feeling the crunch of the dry soil clash with the soft grass underfoot, he tried to figure out what was bothering him so much. Life on the farm wasn’t so bad, and he got along with his family well enough. Sometimes his parents teased him a little about not having found a girl and packed away, but that didn’t bother him too much. A part of him figured the only reason his dad didn’t push the subject further was because he knew damn well the closest human girl for miles was his own flesh and blood. Surveying the pale light illuminating those same fields of wheat in a much more ethereal hue under the stars, he couldn’t figure out what was twisting up his insides so much. He walked like that for some distance, before reaching the familiar sight of endless flowers breaking the amber grains around him. Something about the way they looked, maybe even the way they smelled calmed him down. It was just so different, so... ‘exotic’ for a lack of any better words he could come up with. He was proud to work on a farm, but sometimes he wished he could do more, grow more than the same thing they had for generations. Huh, maybe that was it? He was definitely old enough to head out and do his own thing, but what? Start his own little farm just to grow something slightly different? That was stupid. What would he do on a homestead of his own other than toil and sleep? He could do that here. Maybe... maybe if he had someone to share that place with... But, that was just wishful thinking. For James the dating scene was about as foreign as those spaceships they say made it to the moon hanging high above them. Something his parents still doubted was actually real... but that particular train of thought didn’t interest him. Just soaking in the sight of the calming flowers, he closed his eyes and listened to the countless bugs filling the quiet of the night. Standing as still as a scarecrow, he bathed in the natural symphony until a rather unusual insect call sounded out. One in English. Straining his ears to listen, he made out a snippet, “...and then he holds her close, warm breath at the nape of her neck...” The calm oration of a woman is interrupted by a considerably more flustered one, “Oh my! Outsiders actually write such... such scandalous things like this? For other people to see?” Despite the disbelief in her voice, James could only make out rather reserved descriptions of light cuddling hum through the air. What on Earth was he listening to? Opening his eyes abruptly, he noticed two short and rounded silhouettes moving slowly through the night. One held a book aloft in her hands, reading lightly as she walked. Her voice was enchantingly sweet, smooth as honey and oddly proud to be speaking such words. The second trailed slightly behind, throwing out comments of outrage occasionally despite clearly being spellbound by everything she had to say. He couldn’t blame her, he was spellbound by that same voice. Listening for longer than he realized, he noticed the two coming closer... and closer... Oh, damn it! They were going to see him watching like a creep! James figured he could shimmy back into the wheat. If he crouched over, he’d surely be hidden in it. Motioning back slowly, he didn’t look back to spot the prickly weed directly behind him. Sure enough as the thorns made contact with his skin, he instinctively hopped up with a crunch of foliage. Despite the sudden twinge of pain, he froze like a statue as the two figures turned their heads... directly facing him. “Emma, what in the hell was that? You said no one was going to hear us this far out!” The other woman spoke with muted concern, “It’s nothing, I’m sure... maybe some cattle from the outsider’s land. I’ll even check to prove it to you.” The farmer boy held his breath as the women came closer. Should he just run for it? Or would that make him look even more suspicious? Maybe he could just walk out and play it cool. Like... well, like he wasn’t just watching them from the distance like a peeping Tom. He ran casual lines through his head, maybe an excuse about tending to the crops? Yet, as he tried to fabricate a line about how he was going out at midnight to deal with pests, she came close enough to really see his figure. The two women froze, antennas raised in high alert. Conflicting thoughts raced through the young man’s mind. The major one clashing with his previous entrancement being if maybe his father was right about avoiding these bees. He never gave a good reason, but that didn’t stop thoughts of being attacked or scorned from flashing across his mind. The way the stars reflected in their deep black eyes like pools of unfathomably deep water was equal parts fascinating and tarrying in that moment. Yet, he felt any intimidation fade as the lead bumblebee whispered back in equal fear, “Is that... is that an outsider?” Clearing his throat and practically causing the two to leap into the air, he tried to look nonchalant. An endeavor he failed completely with a cold sweat and nervous legs. “Hey there neighbor!” Wincing at a slight voice crack he continued without leaving room for pause. “Just uh, doing a late-night check for pests... they um, only come out at night...” In a flash Emma looked more amazed than concerned. That was definitely the voice of a man. This was a sign, no way it was a coincidence. The slightly overwhelmed woman went along with her gut feeling of fate, because what she did next made her sister look away in shame. Clumsily swaying her bulbous fuzzy hips in a way that made her dress flutter, she walked straight up to the mysterious outsider. “Hi there... er... big boy.” Evelyn would have been equally ashamed if her sister was dancing in a stripper’s outfit... A part of her thought even an outsider would turn away and start badmouthing her for lacking any control over her urges. Despite the situation Evelyn had trouble speaking, considering she wasn’t much better herself taking a secretive walk just to listen about the mysteriously tender touches supposedly only a man could bestow. James on the other hand could only watch with confusion as the woman sashayed towards him. These people really were strange... just not in any way his father prepared him for. Especially when any attempts at contact in the past were met with cold indifference and clear intentions of ignoring him. Mind racing the only words to leave his mouth were... “Big boy?” The way he said it, he immediately felt stupid afterwards. Unintentionally, that same tone made Emma feel stupid for attempting the already outlandish act of speaking with outsiders, something only the Queen or maybe father was allowed to do. Making an effort to straighten himself out despite realizing he must look ridiculous in his nighttime attire, James gave her the benefit of the doubt. He had to remind himself that he was both a boy, and relatively big compared to her. “Hi there... bee?” Emma’s antennas knotted in apprehension as her actions aught up to her, especially with Evelyn hoarsely whispering behind her. “Maybe we should GO...” Emma was quickly radiating enough anxiety it crossed the species gap, so that even James could notice it. Feeling bad she looked clearly distressed, he tried to find something nice to say. “You know, I uh, I love how you grow all those flowers...” Grabbing the back of his now moist neck he backpedaled as he thought about it, “...if you’re even the ones growing them on your property...” However the bumble in front of him lit up in response. “Yeah! We tend to the flowers!” She looked behind him to the gentle waves of wheat under the meager wind. “Where are yours anyway? Are they that brown stuff that’s yet to bloom?” With the discomfort easing, James stood at the edge of his family’s field, and Emma her own. A thin line of grass separating them. Close but still not willing to enter each other’s territory.